


Ferret Boy

by JaredsBathbombs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ferret Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Potions Accident
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 18:11:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19835776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaredsBathbombs/pseuds/JaredsBathbombs
Summary: When Draco Malfoy is given chocolates at the beginning of winter break, he thinks nothing of them. Eating them, though, results in him getting cared for by Harry Potter himself.





	1. Draco

Eighth year was not going particularly well for Draco Malfoy. 

There were only a hand full of students from each house who had taken up Mcgonagall's offer to stay for another year and finish their education. Draco was one of them. 

Because of his former choices, he was a pariah of sorts. The eighth year Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs all avoided him at any costs. The three other Slytherins who decided to stay had all been involved in the right side of the war and were not exactly fond of Draco. 

The first week back had been weird. There were parts of the castle that were not finished being rebuilt and served as a constant reminder of what had happened only four months prior. During those four months, Draco had been completely unsure of what would happen to him. He had been in and out of meetings with his lawyer, working out his plea. It was not looking well for him, and as his court date approached he grew more and more anxious. Five minutes before he was in the room he had resigned himself to a soulless existence in Azkaban. But then, as he was shaking before the court, all eyes turned as the doors opened and in stepped the chosen one himself. Harry Potter. And he walked up to the witness stand, looking as if he was almost floating. He said a few simple sentences and just like that Draco was sent away with a sentence for community service, otherwise a free man. He was in a dazed state when he was pulled into the arms of his mother. It wasn't until later that night, when he was alone in his room, that he broke down and cried.

Draco spent the first three weeks back at school trying to thank Potter. He had awkwardly approached him multiple times, only for him to either chicken out or receive a death glare from Weasley that made his throat feel like it was closing up. Draco found it maddening. He saw Potter now more than ever, and when he actually wants to be nice to him he can't find it in him to muster up the courage to actually talk to him. 

It was now the morning of the beginning of Winter break. After breakfast the other students would be on their way to their respective homes. Draco had decided to stay. His mother was in France, staying with an old school friend, and he wasn't about to intrude. 

He sat at the the very end of the Slytherin table, closest to the entrance of the Great Hall, barely picking at his food. He wasn't very hungry at the moment. Come to think of it, he hadn't really been very hungry at all recently. When was it that he started to lose his appetite, he wondered. Since before Dumbledore's passing, he knew. 

Draco leaned back. If his appetite wasn't completely gone before, it was now. Another thing to apologize for. Yet he would probably never get a chance to. Not that an apology would really mean anything to anyone. The man was dead because of him. He twisted his hands together, mind becoming muddy with guilt. 

He didn't have a long time to beat himself up, as a thump on the table in front of him dragged him out of his own mind. Dropped on the table in front of him was a neat, plainly wrapped box. A grey owl sitting elegantly beside it. 

Draco never recalled seeing this particular owl before. Giving it a piece of his bacon, it chirped in gratitude and cleanly ate it. 

Draco eyed it for a second before turning to the box. He unwrapped it, taking note of the brandless box under the paper. Secured to the box with some twine was a folded piece of thick paper. He slid it from under the twine, unfolding it. 

Enjoy, it said. Signed, Pansy. 

This wasn't too out of the ordinary. Pansy sent him letters quite often, and he replied to them. She was one of the few people he still felt comfortable around. He had tried to convince her to come back to Hogwarts with him, but she refused, choosing instead to travel around Europe, staying with all different types of wizards and witches. 

That explained the new owl, he thought. She often sent letters to him through borrowed owls. It was odd, however, that she sent such a short message. She usually said where she was staying so that he could send an owl back. Maybe he could send one back with this owl instead. He looked up at it just as it spread its wings and took off. He blinked after it. So much for that idea. 

He turned his attention back to the box, lifting the lid. He stared at the contents. 

"Chocolates?" he mumbled. He shrugged after a moment and placed the lid back. He'd eat them later, he supposed. 

Draco was walking back to the eighth year dormitories, head down, box of chocolates nearly forgotten, when he turned the corner, running straight into someone. He was caught completely off guard and lost his balance, about to stumble onto the floor when the person grabbed one hand onto his bicep, the other on his side, to steady him. He sputtered for a second before letting himself look up into the face of Harry Potter. His savior once again.

"Uhm. Thank you. Sorry," he said, shifting his gaze when he saw who was also there with Potter. Weasley and Granger. Both carrying suitcases. 

"Don't worry about it," Potter said and dropped his arms to his sides. He side-stepped him and started walking down the hall, the other two following right after. 

Draco's heart pounded frantically as he turned to face Potter's back. 

"I - Potter!" He stuttered. 

Potter turned to barely look over his shoulder. "I said don't worry about it." And he continued on down the hall, Weasley immediately taking his place at his side and talking loudly. 

"I'm serious, Harry. My mum's already given you an invitation. Just stay for Christmas break," he said. 

"Don't get too upset over it, Ron. I just-" and then Harry's voice faded off as he turned around the next corner.

Draco let out a breath before hurrying back to the eighth year common room. He sunk himself down into one of the over-sized, plush armchairs. He let himself get situated before pulling a book out of his bag. His mother had sent it to him a few weeks back. It was quite a large book, being much thicker than any textbook he had ever read and having substantially smaller text than a normal novel. His mother had gotten it from some muggle bookstore before she left for France and he had decided to at least try to give it a read. For being written by a muggle, it wasn't the worst book ever, and more times than not, he found himself completely invested in the story.

As his hands reached into his bag to get the book, they brushed past the box of chocolates he had gotten at breakfast. Once he placed the book on his lap he also pulled out the box, setting it on the chair's armrest. 

He got a chapter more into the incredibly dense book and he was beginning to feel a bit of fatigue. He let his head roll to the side, stretching the muscles in his neck. At that moment, the common room door opened and Draco made himself look back to his book, hoping that whoever it was would leave quickly so he didn't have to deal with their stares. 

He saw the person move out of the corner of his eye. He immediately recognized the blob of color. Of course it was Potter. What other eighth year would be staying over Christmas break? When he saw him reach the door to the boy's tower dorms he let himself look up. 

His face immediately flushed, however, because Potter was paused by the door, head turned over his shoulder, eyes now locked with Draco's.

Damn it. He knew he shouldn't have looked up. He knew it, but he did it anyways. 

He tore his eyes away to stare back down at the small text of the pages. The sound of the dormitory door opening and closing echoed through the common room and then Potter was gone. Up the stairs to do who knows what.

Draco blinked furiously at the pages, trying to will his brain to refocus on the words in front of him. But his brain just didn't seem to want to. So instead, he opened the box of chocolates. 

He hadn't really inspected them closely in the Great Hall, but they were beautifully crafted. They were shaped like blooming roses. He picked one up, inspecting it further. The detail was incredible, he thought. It was almost like he was looking at an actual miniature rose. He looked at it once more before eating it. 

The taste was nothing he had ever tasted before. Sure, he had eaten chocolates before, but this was something else. It was a rich flavor. There was mix of other flavors as well. A creamy flavor and a swish of raspberry, he supposed. 

He replaced the lid back on the box and slid the rest into his bag.

It was a shame there was no brand on the box. He would have liked to find some for his mother. 

He set his eyes back on the book. 

Not two minutes later his nose scrunched up as his mouth filled with a horrible taste. A delayed aftertaste? It was bitter. Tasting as though he had taken a bite of an actual flower.

He set his book aside and stood, deciding to get some water, but as soon as he got to his feet he felt a dizzy spell come over him and his vision went dark.


	2. Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's day

Harry Potter hadn't been having the best of days. He had been awoken at three in the morning by the screams in his dreams. 

His chest heaved heavily and he looked about the room, lifting himself onto his elbows. The eighth year boys' dormitory. 

He hadn't disturbed anyone from their sleep. After a week of screaming himself and others awake at the Burrow, he had taken to enabling silencing charms around his bed every night before he went to sleep. 

It was Colin this time. His was the face staring back at him as Harry had to watch the life drain from his body. 

He laid himself back down, clenching his eyes shut. He had a long night ahead of him. 

He hadn't ended up getting back to sleep and by the time the morning came around he was exhausted. He was already dressed and ready for breakfast when Ron woke up. 

Ron watched him, exhaustion clear on his face as well.

They never talked about it, but he had them too. The nightmares. He had once been woken up by Ron screaming a month after the battle. George had been the one to shake Ron awake and he stared at George like he had seen a ghost. And of course, he had, in a way.

For him, the nightmares had become more infrequent over the last couple months. That didn't make them any less terrifying. 

"You can still change your mind about staying here," Ron said once he was dressed and finished packing his suitcase.

Harry shook his head. "I want to be here," he replied. 

Ron gave him one last look before closing the case. "You've been pulling away. Don't think 'Mione and I haven't noticed. Just don't pull too far." 

Breakfast was dull. Hermione tried to convince him to stay at the Burrow as well. He was swift to turn her down. He just wanted to be alone for a while, and he figured that Christmas break was the perfect chance for that. 

Hermione, however, when he first introduced the idea, had spouted off facts about how the winter time might not be the best time to put himself in isolation. Despite this, Harry was persistent with his insistence to stay. And stay he would.

"And you're absolutely positive you don't want to go," Ron said as he gathered his two suitcases. 

They had just gotten back from breakfast and Harry was going to walk Ron and Hermione down to the carriages waiting in the courtyard.

"Ron, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me," Harry sighed out, ready to shoo him from the room if he didn't let down. 

"Fine! But 'Mione will have a fit when we get on the train. She'll talk my ear off about it the whole way back," Ron said, dragging his suitcases to the door. 

Harry followed after him. "I'm sure the one having a fit will be you." 

Ron scoffed. 

By then they had made their way down the stairs leading to the boy dormitory, and waiting in the common room for them was Hermione, tapping her foot in annoyance.

"It should not have taken you that long to get your luggage, Ronald," she said.

Ron looked back at Harry with pleading eyes. "Please, please, come with us, mate."

"You're on your own, Ron."

Harry soon learned that Ron still would not drop their earlier discussion. It wasn't surprising, but it was tiring all the same. 

They made their way down the halls, and by this point Harry had blocked out most of what Ron was saying. He was mindlessly making his way towards the courtyard, but was suddenly pulled back into his own mind when he turned a corner too swiftly and ran into another person. 

He knew who it was immediately. He had been spending too much time watching this particular head of blonde hair from across classrooms and the Great Hall lately. 

His balance was barely thrown off, but Malfoy, however, looked like he was about to collapse at the surprise run in, so Harry gripped his arm and waist, steadying him. 

It was still for a moment and then grey eyes were turned up towards him and he didn't know what to do except to stare back.

Draco broke the stare first, his eyes shifting to look at Ron and Hermione next to them. 

"Uhm. Thank you. Sorry," he said.

"Don't worry about it." Harry let his arms drop back to his sides. Deciding their interaction was over, he walked around the other boy and continued down the hall, Hermione and Ron quick on his heels.

"I - Potter!" 

Harry turned back to look at Draco. "I said don't worry about it." 

As soon as he turned back around, Ron was talking again.

"I'm serious, Harry. My mum's already given you an invitation. Just stay for Christmas break." 

Harry slumped, wishing he could just block him out. "Don't get too upset over it, Ron. I just want to have some alone time," he sighed. 

"Fine."

It was silent for a moment more. 

"At least-"

"Ron!" Harry groaned in frustration

"Just listen!" Ron shoved his shoulder lightly. "If it gets too much just floo over for Christmas eve and you can stay for a few days."

"I'll think about it," he said, shifting his robes uncomfortably. 

After he was finished waving them off he headed back to the eighth year common room, ready to take a long nap and waste away the afternoon.

The halls were empty and he was suddenly very aware of the silence around him. Everything suddenly felt very still. He found it very unsettling and purposefully clicked his heels against the stone floors, focusing on the noise it made. 

He was relieved when he reached the eighth year common room entrance. Their portrait was of an old man sitting comfortably in a plush chair. His eyes seemed to always be closed, and his lips were constantly stretched in an inviting smile. He sat with his back hunched, his hands folded in his lap. The detail was incredible. Every wrinkle in the man's skin seemed to have an untold story. Some history that they'll never know. 

The portrait's voice was almost the opposite of his appearance. While he seemed to be frail, his voice was booming and strong, and sounding surprisingly young. His voice filled the hall when he spoke, and Harry was happy for the disturbance in the silence when he spoke to him. 

"Password?" he asked, head tilting upward towards him. 

"Lemon drops," Harry said, then immediately bit at his lip. He didn't know which professor had assigned the eighth year's password, but every time he said it, it left a slight ache in his heart. 

The portrait swung open and Harry hurried inside, ready to take a long, hopefully dreamless, nap. 

As soon as he stepped foot in the common room his eyes immediately flickered over to the blonde sitting in an over-sized chair; a rather large book sitting open on his lap. Malfoy looked completely engulfed in his book. 

Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts, then continued over to the staircase leading up to the boys' dormitory.

Without thinking, Harry turned his head over his shoulder to look back at Malfoy once more. Perhaps he had been wrong earlier when he thought he was totally engrossed in his book, because now he looked almost motionless. Not even a slight rise of his shoulders to indicate breathing. Like he was holding his breath, and it was almost alarming. It looked almost like someone had taken a picture of him - a muggle one - and now he was stuck like this forever. Harry wouldn't mind having a copy of this picture.

He was brought back to reality when Draco's - Malfoy's - head shot up, and they locked eyes for just a second, before Malfoy's back went absolutely rigid and he turned his eyes back on the pages of his book. 

Harry's face was flushed now, and he turned swiftly back towards the staircase, feet leading him up. In his hurry, he tripped over the first couple of steps, giving him a mini heart attack as he tried to retreat to the dormitory. 

His heart was still pounding when he made it up to the room. With shaking hands, he shucked off his robe and jumper, then fumbled around to undo the buttons on his shirt. After he pulled off his pants, he threw his clothes into a discarded pile on the edge of his bed, then pulled on an over-sized sweater. It wasn't meant to be a sleeping shirt, but the material was soft and Harry liked the feeling of it against his skin. 

He dug himself under the blankets and let himself drift off thinking about a blonde head of hair.

It seemed like a very short nap that Harry was awoken from, and what he woke to was not pleasant. 

There was a loud screeching noise that made Harry think he had just woken up from a dream. He laid there on his bed, breathing heavily for a second only to realize that the screeching had not ceased with his waking. Panic filled him as he shot out of bed, tripping over his trunk as he did so. He raced to the dormitory door, wrenching it open and stepping out into the cold stairwell. His eyes raced around, out of panic more than anything, and the was about to run down the stairs when he looked to the ground and saw a beautifully white ferret.


	3. Draco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm really bad at summaries, so instead I'll just write something random. Tomorrow I'm going to go see Annabelle with someone I might like. I might not. I'm really bad at crushes. But yeah.

Draco's eyes shot wide open, darting around to looked at the room surrounding him. His breathing was inhumanly fast, and everything about him felt different. Felt off. 

Everything around him was huge. He felt panic rise to his head, his thoughts racing as he realized that the chocolates were laced with some kind of potion. He had been shrunken and everyone was on their way home for Christmas. 

Except for Harry, that is. 

Harry. 

Harry! 

Draco tried to lift himself to his feet, but found that it was particularly hard to do so. His brows furrowed and he looked down at his hands. Or what would have been his hands rather. Instead, what he was staring down at were tiny little paws. 

Thoughts of fourth year suddenly flashed back into his head as he realized what exactly he had been turned into. 

Scurrying across the floor to the staircase to the boy's dormitory, he let loose on a long screech, trying to alert Potter to what was happening to him. He pulled himself up the stairs, suddenly finding it very hard, as he was not accustomed to this new body, all the while, letting out more screams.

When he had made it halfway up the spiraling staircase he heard a ruckus coming from the dorm room and after a moment he heard the door crash open and out stumbled a very panicked looking Harry Potter. His eyes flashed wildly around him until he suddenly spotted Draco on the ground in front of him. Draco watched at Potter slumped against the wall, suddenly looking very relieved. 

"A bloody ferret," he gasped out. 

Draco squeaked indignantly, still attempting to hope his way up the last few steps, thinking himself very accomplished when he landed finally at Potter's feet.

"Whose are you?" Potter asked, lowering himself down and offering his hand to him. "Can't believe someone would forget a whole ferret behind." 

Draco looked at his hand. Wishing he could talk like a human. 

"Maybe Draco knows something about you," Potter said, and Draco found himself blinking up at him. 

Potter had never called him Draco before. It was weird, and he liked the sound of it, and if he was still human he was sure he would be blushing right now. He was so shocked at his own name that he only realized what was happening when he was lifted up into the air. One of Potter's hands now supporting his belly and chest, while he pressed him against his own chest.

When Potter started walking down the stairs he started squirming in his hand. This was going to be extremely embarrassing when Potter figures out it was him, he thought to himself. But it was the only way to try to get help to turn human again, so it was necessary. 

Potter started scratching the fur on his chest with his index finger. 

"Don't worry, we'll find who you belong to," he said. 

Draco huffed, trying to latch his paws onto Potter's hand for a better grip. 

"Hey, Malfoy, do you know - oh," Harry stopped at the bottom of the stairs, staring out at the otherwise empty common room. 

Draco looked up at Potter's face, squeaking for attention. Potter turned his head down at him. It was a weird angle, and not very attractive, Draco noted, before blinking and returning to the task at hand. He squeaked again. 

"You look so familiar," Potter said, brows furrowing together. "Why can't I remember whose you are?"

Draco looked around, spotting the corner of his book bag behind the chair he had been sitting in earlier. He began squirming again, trying to get out of Potter's grip. If only he could get over to his bag, Potter might understand. 

"Don't worry," Potter said, scratching at his chest again. "We'll figure this out." 

Potter turned and hurried back up the stair's to the boy's dormitory, where he set Draco onto his bed, then rustled around in his trunk, pulling out articles of clothing. 

Draco sat there, awkwardly watching the other boy pull on a pair of jeans. It was only then that he realized that Potter was only wearing a baggy shirt and boxers. Was he supposed to turn around? He didn't know. Maybe Potter wouldn't mind. He was a ferret, after all. But then again, when he was back into a human and Potter knew who he actually was, maybe he would find it weird. But also, what if he doesn't even remember the part where he changed in front of him. He might as well enjoy the show going on in front of him when he was having such a horrendous time. 

He looked down as Potter pulled his shirt off, getting it stuck around his head, to look at exactly what those jeans were doing for his arse. He had never gotten to look at it for long before, since it was always hidden behind a robe. 

His eyes flickered back up again when Potter finally got his shirt off. Quidditch had done wonders for his torso, and suddenly Draco found that he could care less what Potter thought of him after this whole ordeal was over. He gets to see this and he is not complaining. 

Potter pulled on a skin tight, long sleeved shirt, then slid back on the sweater he had been wearing before. 

Draco huffed. The sweater hid everything. What was the point? At least he still had his arse.

Potter wrapped a scarf around his neck and then spoke. "Alright." He turned to him and lifted him up again, pressing him against his chest like he had before.

They made their way down the staircase again. And Draco squirmed a bit once more when they walked across the common room, then slumped when they made it out in to the hall. Foiled again. He was only trying to improve the situation. Why couldn't Potter just understand him? It was completely frustrating and Draco wrinkled his nose at the annoyance of it all.

At first, Draco didn't realize where Potter was taking him. It seemed to him as though they were just traveling the halls. He slumped. Letting himself press his head further against Potter's chest. 

When Potter turned towards the large pair of doors leading outside, Draco was confused. He suddenly found himself being moved a bit and he squeaked abruptly. 

Potter used his free hand to pull the scarf from his neck and wrapped Draco up in it. Draco blinked.

Potter smiled. "It's cold outside." He said. 

Draco squeaked again. 

Did Potter make it a habit of his to talk to most animals that he encountered? He found it odd. Intriguing, in a way. He spoke like he was talking to something human. Not that he wasn't human. But Potter didn't know that. 

He blinked, though, and brought himself back to what was happening in front of him. And once he realized where they were going, he screeched loudly. He did not want to be handled by those giant hands. He wriggled around in the scarf. 

Potter just readjusted his hold and kept on walking. His shoes crunched in the snow. He didn't say anything more as they neared the hut. 

Potter was shivering when they made it to the door. He rapped his knuckles on the wood. 

"Hagrid?" he called. "Are you home?"

There was a clattering on the other side of the door before it was wrenched open and Hagrid took up the space of the door. 

"'Arry! Come on inside. What brings you here?" 

The half-giant ushered Potter inside, indicating him to take a seat. Potter lowered himself into the chair, sending a glance down at Draco. 

Draco burrowed deeper into the scarf, not ready to get man-handled Hagrid. 

"I was wondering if you've ever seen this little guy around." Potter lifted the bundled Draco onto the table, moving some of the scarf away so Hagrid could see him clearly. Draco sniffed. "I found him in the dorms, and I don't know whose he is." 

Hagrid leaned down a bit. "I've seen 'im before, all right." 

Potter leaned forward. "You have?" He sounded excited. 

"Yer fourth year, Mcgonagall brought in a student that had been turned into a ferret by a professor. I -"

Draco tuned out the man and crawled over to Harry, bracing his front paws on Potter's forearm. 

"Wait, I - that's -" Potter stumbled over his words, turning his eyes down to look at Draco. "Malfoy?"


End file.
